Harry Potter & The Sword of Gryffindor
by Mihiru
Summary: Very often, you have to revisit things to truly see them for what they are.. -oneshot-


Tuesday, January 29, 2008

**Harry Potter & The Sword Of Gryffindor**

**A/N: The time is around.. when ever you feel like it. This could be an alternate universe, for all I care. All you need to know is that Harry is ready to fight Voldermort (Yes, I call him VoldeRmort), and I am not a Harry/Ginny fan. **

**Gather 'round, chil'un! It's time for some out of character wizards. Fu fu fu fu..!**

**For an example of 'OoC':**

_..And Ron Weasley turned to Hermione Granger and said, "Lawlawlawl, Hermione, did j00 c dat catch in qwiditch, yo?!"_

_"DAT WAS SO HAX! Rofflecopter!", replied Hermione. Then they high-fived and made out. _[end That is completely IN CHARACTER for ME, but not at all for ANY of them. Ok, maybe Seamus. But, that is Seamus and no one can be held accountable for him. He's Seamus Finnigan, bitch.

Anyway, don't worry... it won't be that out of character, so put down your suicide pills and take a deep breath.. and read on.

(*_Locks the doors behind you*)_

**Ignore my cavalier attitude and read on, please!**

""-_Start It Up, yo_!-""

Standing in the Headmaster's office, a museum of the current headmaster, Harry Potter gazed solemnly around. The curios, whirligigs and silver gizmos, spinning and chugging busily, a testament to the strange silver-haired, starry-eyed sage. Who was currently moonwalking to a cabinet.

Pausing in front of the cabinet to twirl and stop on the tips of his toes, Dumbledore says to Harry, "Are you truly ready to take on Voldemort?"

"I really don't have a choice, do I, sir?" Harry murmurs, "Voldemort won't wait patiently while I get stronger, he'll just keep killing."

"Yes, unfortunately that is very true." Sighed Dumbledore, "If I could, Harry, I would fight him my self. But, there are some battles that one cannot stand in place for an other."

Harry nods, knowing that life really is JUST that unfair.

The headmaster smiles proudly at the young man standing at his side, turning away to reach into the cabinet and pull out a familiar blade. Hefting the familiar weight of Godric's sword, in his left hand Harry peers curiously at the twinkling eyes of Albus.

"That doesn't mean I can't help you cheat.." Dumbledore beamed, "Just a little, of course."

"Of course," grinned Harry, "But how will this help, sir? It's just an ordinary sword, a fine one, yes, but still.. just a sword."

"Oh, Harry.. You know not everything is what it seems." said the headmaster, taking the sword from him and giving it a slow swing.

Harry's eyes grew wide...

They had chosen a wide field. When Harry and his allies arrived they met a coliseum, open to the eyes of magic and non-magic folks alike. The stadium benches were packed with people, muggle villagers and wizards/witches seated next to each other confused as to why they were gathering, feeling drawn to something important.

In a whoosh of dark clouds the Death Eaters arrived in force, Voldemort at the helm. Voldemort sneered nastily towards the Side of Light, reptilian eyes settling coldly on The Boy Who Lived who stared icily back at him.

"I'm insulted, Potter!" Laughed the high voice of Lord Voldemort, "You face me with 7 children, an incompetent half-giant, and a senile senior."

His insults falling short of their goal of rattling cages, as the Side of Light was much too distracted by their own carrying ons:

Dumbledore teaching Neville Longbottom to break dance, one Rubeus Hagrid busily digging in his pockets, Seamus flirting with several Death Eaters (most were actually considering his advances).

Draco Malfoy was talking to his parents (also Death Eaters) animatedly, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger were arguing about battle ettiquette with Ginny Weasley listening and holding Justin Finch-Finley from running away, and Harry who was smiling beatifically at him.

The smile was starting to creep him out, as Harry's eyes had a strange, cruel gleam to them.

"Your.. "army" isn't very impressive, either, _Lord Voldemort._" Murmured Harry, making his name sound like something less than dirt.

Voldemort glanced from the corner of his eye, angered at the sight that met him.

His Death Eaters mostly distracted by Dumbledore spinning on his head, in an attempt to break the current record of spins, a few were enraptured with making Neville squirm under their flirtatious attentions, and the rest were caught in a very heated discussion with the rest of the Side of Light.

Only Bellatrix and Pettigrew, remained at his side as Harry approached very slowly with the sword of Griffyndor playing in his hands.

Harry raised the sword to his left shoulder and ran it slowly down to his right hip, the sword snaking sensually down his body in an arc before snapping back to its original form seamlessly. The stadium fell silent, so when Harry whispered these next words it sounded as though he were whispering it into each ear.

"Let me see.. What shall I cut off first..?"

**Well, that was oddly satisfying to write.**

**Hugs to anyone who knows where I got that from! Ufu fu Review please!**


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